


The Yuletide Challenge

by jdmusiclover



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdmusiclover/pseuds/jdmusiclover
Summary: Today’s story is an AU based on this prompt from @kmomof4: Character A vows to do something nice for a stranger during the Christmas time. Character B is that stranger.





	1. Chapter 1

_~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_

Emma took a deep breath, smoothed down her tight red dress, and stepped through the doors of The Rabbit Hole, the premiere bar in the tiny town of Storybrooke, Maine, and scanned the interior for some poor, sad soul who looked in need of Christmas cheer.  She rolled her eyes.  How the hell had she let Mary Margaret talk her into this?

It all started the week before, when Emma had gone to her adoptive brother David’s and her sister in law Mary Margaret’s loft apartment for Thanksgiving dinner.  Emma had never been a big holiday person.  Growing up in the system, being in and out of group homes, she’d never really had a family to spend the special days with, at least until David’s mom, Ruth had taken her in just before her fifteenth birthday.  By that point, Emma was used to being a loner, and she preferred it that way.  If you don’t let people in, they can’t hurt you, right?  Most Thanksgivings and Christmases, even now that she was an adult with a brother and sister in law she loved, were spent alone, take out and Netflix her big holiday companions.

But after a bad break up with her longtime boyfriend, (what had she ever seen in Walsh, that idiotic flying monkey!) Emma had decided it was time for a change.  She’d packed up her swanky New York apartment and relocated to Storybrooke where there was a job as her brother, the sheriff’s, deputy was waiting for her.  And with Emma living in the same town during the holidays, Mary Margaret simply would not take no as an answer to her invitation to have Thanksgiving dinner with the family.

Emma had to admit dinner with the family had been nice.  There was something so damn _heartwarming_ about sharing a holiday with the ones she loved.

It was only after the feast had been consumed, the dishes had been watched, and the post-meal nap had been taken that things took a rather unfortunate turn.

Mary Margaret got awkwardly to her feet (it was one of the drawbacks of being nearly 7 months pregnant, after all) and clinked her water glass to get everyone’s attention.

“So David and I have been thinking,” she’d said.  “We thought it would be a good idea to start a new family tradition during the holiday season.”

Emma was immediately on alert.  When her sister in law had that look in her eyes it _always_ spelled trouble.  “Um…okay?  Just what kind of tradition are we talking about?”

“The Yuletide challenge!” Mary Margaret said excitedly.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking this,” Emma said, “but what exactly is a Yuletide challenge?”

“I saw an article about it in the holiday edition of my favorite magazine, _Storybrooke Today_ ,” Mary Margaret said.  “Basically, the idea is to spread Christmas cheer to the people who need it most.”

Emma crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.  “Yeah, I don’t really do the whole ‘Christmas cheer’ thing.”

“Oh come on, Emma!” Mary Margaret insisted.  “Christmas is the season of giving!  At least listen to the whole idea before rejecting it.  I promise this challenge will make us all feel warm and fuzzy inside.”

_The puppy dog eyes_.  Her sister in law was giving her the puppy dog eyes.  She wasn’t playing fair.  Not at all.

“It actually sounds like a pretty interesting idea, Emma,” David said, backing up his wife after she tossed him a pointed look. 

Emma sighed.  “Fine.  What exactly are the rules of this whole Yuletide challenge thing?”

Mary Margaret’s smile could light up the sun.  “Each of us will find a person in town—someone we don’t know, or at least don’t know well—who seems down on their luck, or sad, or just in general in need of cheer.  We make it our mission to do little acts of kindness for that person throughout the season.  You’ve got to do at least one good thing for them per week, and once you’ve picked your person, there’s no going back!  That’s your person for the season.  Could be by Christmas time we’ll each have a brand new friend!”

Emma wasn’t a people person.  She didn’t do random acts of kindness for strangers.  She kept to herself and let them keep to themselves.  Life was just better that way.  Still…Mary Margaret was really excited about this idea.  What could it hurt to spread a little kindness during the busiest, most hectic time of year?

“Alright,” Emma said on another sigh.  “Count me in.  I’ll take the Yuletide challenge.”

And that’s how Emma found herself in a bar, dressed to impress, looking for someone who looked sad and down on his luck.  It was nearing the end of the first week of December, and she’d yet to find her victim…er giftee.  She had to find someone fast before she forfeited the challenge before even beginning.

Emma saw him right away, as though a magnet had drawn her eyes to him.  He was handsome ( _hot as hell, really_ ), with his soft black hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, dusting of scruff, jeans and black leather jacket.  But it wasn’t his looks that immediately drew Emma to him.  It was the dejected, almost despairing look on his face as he nursed his glass of rum at his lonely table at the back of the establishment.  If anyone needed a little Christmas cheer, it was this guy.

Squaring her shoulders, Emma walked purposefully to his table.  He looked up at the sound of her stiletto heels moving across the floor, his eyes showing surprise and appreciation as he took in the sight of her.

“This seat taken?” she asked, reaching for the chair across from him.

He waved with his right hand.  “Be my guest, love.”

The smooth, British accent, combined with his far above average looks did things to her insides.  Emma turned away, taking the chair.  _Get it together, Swan!  You’re not some teenager who gets crushes on hot strangers!_

“So, my name’s Emma Swan,” she said.  “And who might you be?”

“Killian Jones,” he answered, “but people have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker.  Hook.”

The man raised his left arm, and Emma noticed the nautical hook which sat in place of a hand.  Well that wasn’t weird or anything. “Um…why do you have a hook instead of a hand?”

_Smooth Emma.  Really smooth. Nothing like starting out the Yuletide challenge with a major faux pas._

One dark eyebrow rose and a half smile draped his lips.  “I’ve always been fascinated with Captain Hook, so after I lost the hand, my Halloween costume was rather obvious.  The hook has proven so bloody useful, I simply chose to keep it.”

“Oh, well…sorry about your hand.”

A shadow passed over his face.  “Aye, well, it’s been five years, almost to the day since the accident.”  He closed his eyes for a moment, then drained his glass in one gulp, hastily pouring himself another.

If Emma didn’t miss her guess, and she rarely did, an ability to read people was one of the things that made her one of the best bail bonds persons New York had ever seen, there was more to the story, than simply the loss of a hand.  The poor guy was in misery even alluding to the event.

_Nice job, Emma.  Instead of spreading Christmas cheer, you’ve managed to make this guy relive his worst memory._

“Killian….I’m sorry…”

He waved her off.  “It’s no matter, Swan.  Seems it’s a night for melancholy musings, but I survived.  Now, I’d rather discuss something pleasanter if you don’t mind.  What exactly brought such a beautiful woman to my table on this cold winter’s night?”

Emma took a deep breath.  _Here goes nothing_.  “So I was wondering if you’d help me with something.”

His eyebrow rose in question.

“Let me buy your next round,” she said, “and then, well, maybe I could do some nice things for you.”

His expression changed in an instant.  Surprise and melancholy replaced with pure lasciviousness.  “That’s quite the offer, darling.  It’s not every day a gorgeous woman offers herself as my Christmas gift.”

Emma felt her face flame.  “Oh my gods!  I wasn’t _propositioning_ you, Killian!”  (Though…if he kept looking at her like that…well, there was no telling what might come of this night.)

He sighed dramatically.  “My profound loss.  So, Swan, if you weren’t asking me for what, I assure you would be a very, very pleasant roll in the sheets, what precisely were you offering?”

“You see, my sister in law, Mary Margaret, had this idea for the holiday season….”  And with that she laid out the whole sappy challenge for him.  “And, I don’t know.  You just look like you could use a friend.  So what do you say?”

Killian took a long sip of his rum, and Emma tried her best not to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, not to follow the line down to his firm chest where luscious, abundant chest hair peeked out from beneath a partially buttoned shirt.  “Oh I don’t know, Swan.  I rather think spending a night together in my bed would count as a kindness.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, not happening.  We’re talking warm, fuzzy, purely platonic acts of kindness.”

He sighed dramatically, and she grinned in spite of herself.  He was such an idiot.  But…he was an adorable idiot, and she couldn’t help but sense she’d enjoy the time she’d inevitably spend with him, should he accept her offer.

A soft, almost shy smile replaced the teasing on his face.  “Very well, Emma.  I will be the recipient of your challenge.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 


	2. Chapter 2

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Killian watched the gorgeous blonde walk away from him, her strides purposeful and decisive.  He grinned to himself as he finished his last shot, settled his tab and headed back to his lonely apartment.  When he’d left home that night, he’d hoped merely for enough rum to dull the ever-present pain and loneliness this time of year inevitably brought ever since _it_ had happened. 

What he’d gotten instead was a lifeline.  Emma Swan may have believed she was (rather unwillingly if he didn’t miss his guess) fulfilling the requirements of her sister in law’s holiday project, but in a lot of ways, she’d been his savior on this cold winter’s night.

Five years past in early December, Killian’s whole world had crashed around him.  He’d had his share of pain and heartache throughout his childhood—his mother dying when he was barely old enough to remember her, his father running off and leaving him and Liam—but he also had joy.  He and Liam had been inseparable since the loss of their parents.  Liam had been the best brother any lad could ever hope to have—as much a surrogate father as a brother.

Then six years ago, he’d met the woman he believed to be the love of his life—Milah.  They’d had a quick whirlwind of a romance, and just before that fateful day of the accident, Killian had made up his mind to propose.

It was supposed to be a magical night.  Liam was in town for the weekend, and the plan was for the brothers and Milah to purchase a Christmas tree and decorate Killian’s apartment.  Only they never made it to the Christmas tree farm.  A drunk driver had hit them head on, killing Liam and Milah instantly and crushing his hand so badly it couldn’t be saved.

Killian took a deep breath as he opened the door to his bare, cheerless apartment.  It wouldn’t do to dwell on those painful memories any longer.  There was no going back, no changing what had happened.

Instead, he focused on long, silky blonde hair, jaded green eyes, and luscious legs shown to their full effect thanks to a short dress and high heels.  Emma Swan was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but there was more to the instant attraction he felt toward her than merely her beauty.  There was a pain and brokenness about her that called out to him.  A lost boy could, after all, recognize a lost girl.

Swan may very well plan to save him from holiday blues, but he sensed he may be able to perform the same service to her.  Perhaps while she worked to bring him Yuletide cheer, he could work to knit together the pieces of her broken heart.

For the first time in five years, Killian was actually looking forward to the holiday season.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma sat staring at her cell phone for long moments.  She’d gotten as far as unlocking the thing and typing in Killian’s number before she froze.  Why was this so difficult?  Killian was just some stranger in a bar she had to do 3 more good deeds for, that was it.

It wasn’t like she felt any kind of _connection_ to this guy.  It wasn’t like she was considering a relationship or something with him.  He was just a hot guy she had to do nice things for.  That was it.

So why was her instinct to run going into overdrive?

Emma growled, calling herself every kind of idiot she could think of.  _Just get it over with, Emma_.  She’d do her stupid good deeds, and then Killian “Hook” Jones would be in her rearview mirror.

After another deep, cleansing breath, Emma pressed the dial button and then held her breath until she heard his deep, sexy “Aye”.

“Hey, yeah, it’s Emma,” she said quickly before she could talk herself out of it.  “You know, from the bar?  The one taking the Yuletide challenge?”

His low chuckle did things to her.  Things that were most definitely not PG.

“I assure you, darling, there’s no chance I would forget you.”

“Yeah, whatever, Romeo,” she said dryly.

He laughed again, and Emma found her lips ticking up at the sound in spite of herself.  “So, I figure I need to cross another good deed off my list, since it’s nearly the end of the second week of December.  So what nice thing do you want me to do for you?”

“Well….” he said, drawing the word out in a way that made her heart race.

“What purely platonic thing do you want me to do for you?” she amended hastily.

He laughed again.  _That sound really should be banned_.  But after a beat of silence, he seemed to sober.  “There is one thing, I feel I really should do, and having someone to help truly would be a kindness.”

“Yeah?  What’s that?”

“I…I need to put up a tree, decorate the apartment,” he said, a strange hesitancy in his voice.

“It’s December 15, and you haven’t put your Christmas tree up?!” she asked, incredulous.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a beat…then another.  When Killian finally answered, there was a heaviness in his voice Emma didn’t understand.  “I’ve…not been able to face the prospect of Christmas, and particularly decorating, for some time now.”

He was in pain, Emma could hear that clearly in his voice.  “Look, if it’s too painful or whatever, we don’t have to…”

“No, Swan, it’s quite alright,” Killian said.  “I think perhaps it’s time I attempt to put the past behind me and find joy again in the season.”

“Well if you’re sure…”

“I am,” he said decisively.  “Meet me at Granny’s tomorrow and we can make arrangements.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian took a step back and looked up at the tree.  Twinkling lights, colorful ornaments, a star at the top, it was gorgeous.  “I think we did rather well for ourselves, Swan, if I do say so myself.”

“Hey, when I put my mind to something, I’m all in,” she said, surveying their handiwork.

“So I’ve noticed,” he said with a grin.  “I’ve never seen someone pursue a Christmas tree with quite that much zeal.  I do believe the Christmas tree farmer is still quaking in his boots.”

Emma laughed, the sound washing over him like a warm blanket on a cold night.  “What can I say?” she asked.  “The price the guy was asking for this stupid tree was highway robbery.  What kind of a good deed doer would I be if I let him soak you like that?”

“My wallet thanks, you, love.”

She grinned back at him, and his heart turned over.  She must have seen something in his eyes, because she immediately withdrew into herself.

“Well, anyway…” she said awkwardly.  “Good deed number 2 crossed off the list, right?”

He wanted to ask her to stay, ask her to have dinner with him, find some pretense, any pretense to remain in her presence, but he knew her.  Already, after only one afternoon and a few minutes in a bar, he could read her like an open book.  A serious declaration of his blossoming feelings for her would do nothing but make her run.  Far better to fall back on his tried and true innuendo instead.

“I’m afraid I can’t agree to that, Swan,” he said with an exaggerated wounded look.

She grinned, placing one hand on a shapely hip.  “Yeah?  Why’s that?”

“Quite simply because the decorating is not at an end,” he said.  “I’ve yet to hang the sprig of mistletoe I obtained at the farm.  I rather think it’s only good form of you to stay as I hang it, and then help me…christen it.”

She laughed, the joyous sound bringing a genuine smile to his face.  “Killian, you just never stop, do you?”

He shook his head.  “Why should I stop when my nonsense brings such joy to your face, love?”

She dropped her eyes, took a small step back, and Killian worried he’d put a bit too much genuine emotion into that last question.  “Swan…I’m sorry; I didn’t mean…”

She looked up at him, the smile on her face forced, unnatural.  “It’s fine.  Look, I’ve got to get going.  I’ll, um, talk to you later for the last couple of good deeds.”

Killian sighed as the door closed behind her.  Tonight hadn’t ended as he’d hoped, but as she said, there were still two good deeds left.  Two more opportunities to convince Emma Swan to take a chance on the feelings obviously brewing between the two of them.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	3. Chapter 3

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Emma heard her phone ding, announcing an incoming text, and she smiled to herself.  She’d bet money she knew exactly know was texting her; they’d been texting back and forth more or less every day since she’d helped him decorate his place.  She certainly didn’t want to think about it too closely, but she found herself looking forward to Killian’s texts.  He was funny…and thoughtful…and an idiot all wrapped up in one smoking hot package.

If the idea wasn’t so completely _ludicrous_ , she’d say she was starting to fall for him.  But, of course, that was ridiculous.

Emma glanced down at her phone and read her waiting text.

_Killian: Morning Swan! Tick-tock.  Nearly Christmas week, and I’ve yet to receive my third act of kindness. ;-)_

She quickly sent off a reply.

_Emma: Um, actually I just did you an act of kindness.  You texted me at 7 in the freaking morning, and I didn’t threaten murder._

He responded with a series of emojis that made her bark out a laugh.

_Emma: Fine.  I’m free this weekend. What (PLATONIC) good deed do you want this time?_

_Killian: You had to tack on “platonic”, didn’t you? :(_

_Emma: Lol, I know you, Killian Jones, and I’m not walking into any more innuendo._

After a bit more nonsense in text message form, Killian asked her to stop by his apartment on Saturday afternoon, and they could decide from there just what her third act of Yuletide cheer would be.

Accordingly, at 2:00 pm sharp, Emma knocked on Killian’s door, waiting with more anticipation than she would have expected for her new…whatever he was…to answer.  When he finally did, she was not disappointed.  Her stomach swooped at the sight of those deep, blue eyes, the delighted smile that lit up his face.

And then she noticed what he was wearing and barked out a laugh.  He’d covered his normal jeans and button down with a large apron that said “kiss the cook”.

“So are we baking today?” Emma asked as she stepped inside and let him help her off with her coat.  “Because if we are, I can guarantee you my contribution will not be an act of kindness.”

He chuckled.  “Nonsense, darling.  Anyone can bake Christmas cookies, and I could desperately use your help.  I must have four dozen completed before tomorrow.”

“Four dozen?” she asked with a grin, “sounds like someone’s chasing a sugar high. What the hell are you going to do with four dozen cookies?”

“They aren’t for me, Swan,” he said, looking curiously uncomfortable.  “I’ve made rather a tradition of baking cookies for the children at the group home each Christmas.”

That was…really sweet.  “I didn’t take you for such a philanthropist.  What made you start that tradition?”

“Seemed only good form,” he said, busying himself with grabbing sugar and flour and the other assorted ingredients he would need.  “My brother and I lost our parents quite young and we were in and out of establishments of the sort for years.  Perhaps I see this as a small way to give back for what Mother Blue and her nuns did for us.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Emma said, taking the apron he handed her and pulling it over her head.  “You gonna see him for Christmas?”

His face fell.  “He…died. In the same accident that took my girlfriend and my hand,” he said thickly.

The pain radiated off of him in waves, and Emma felt like a terrible person. Stepping toward him, she laid her hand atop his on the kitchen island.  “I’m sorry, Killian.  I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

He turned his hand over and laced it with hers, giving a little squeeze, before finally meeting her eyes.  “No need to apologize, love.  The truth is…I wanted you to know.  Perhaps if I talk of it I can finally, truly heal.”

Emma looked down at their joined hands, feeling the oddest sence of _belonging_ at the simple gesture.  Her heart turned over, humbled at the idea that he’d entrust her with one of the worst memories of his life.  “Well what are Yuletide good deed doers for?” she asked, her voice far breathier than she’d anticipated.

“What indeed?” he asked softly, looking at her with such a look of tenderness it made her want to run away…or fly into his arms, one or the other.

“Anyway,” she said, taking a quick step back, “what about all those cookies we need to bake?”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian pulled the last sheet of cookies from the oven and set it on the potholder on his counter before turning back to his guest.  Her hair was a mess, she had a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, a smudge of flour on her cheek…and she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

There was no denying it anymore.  He was falling in love with her.  He didn’t know what stroke of good luck convinced her to choose him for this challenge of her family’s, but he was profoundly grateful she had.

“That the last of them?” Emma asked as she finished decorating the last sugar cookie.

“Aye,” he answered.  “We’ll give them a few moments to cool, and then we can give them a few finishing touches.”

Emma turned to face him.  “You know, Killian, I’ve never had any success in the kitchen, but this afternoon has actually been fun.”

“It has, hasn’t it,” he said with a tender smile.  “However, it seems you’re wearing nearly as much flour as went into our cookies.”

He reached up before he could stop himself, cupping her cheek and smoothing away the flour with the pad of his thumb.  Time seemed to stand still for a long moment, neither of them saying a word, both staring intently at the other.

And then she moved.  Grabbing his lapels, she pulled his lips down to hers, kissing him as though her life depended on it.  He hesitated for less than a heartbeat before matching her kiss for kiss, letting all his pent-up feelings have free reign as their mouths melded, their tongues tangled.

The heady feel and taste of Emma Swan was intoxicating, and Killian would have gladly spent hours kissing her, but much too quickly for his liking, she pulled away, breathing hard.

“That was…” Killian whispered, not sure there was an adjective in the English language powerful enough to describe what had just happened between them.

“A one-time thing,” Emma said, quickly stepping back.  

Killian looked up, surprised, and found in her eyes not the awe and wonder and love he was feeling, but something akin to fear.

“Swan…” he began, hardly knowing what he meant to say.

She’d already taken off her apron and was moving toward the door as quickly as she could.  “I have to go.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

“I kissed him,” Emma said quickly, hearing the panic in her voice, unable to control it.

She hadn’t known what to do, where to go, how to calm herself, so she went to the only people she trusted, her family.  Mary Margaret had taken one look at her, ushered her inside, and then promptly made her hot chocolate with cinnamon.  It was only after a few sips of the sweet, comforting brew that Emma was able to relax enough to breathe again.

“Um…who?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Killian,” Emma said.  “I kissed Killian, you know the guy I decided to do the good deeds for?”

Emma could see the excitement Mary Margaret was desperately trying to hide. “Why?” she asked, affecting a casualness Emma knew she didn’t feel.

“I don’t know!” Emma said with a shrug.  “I was feeling good.  It’s been a while.  I don’t know why I did it.”

Mary Margaret took a deliberate sip of her cocoa before responding.  “Did it mean anything?”

“No!” Emma was quick to reassure.  “It was just a kiss!  It was nothing!”

Mary Margaret deliberately set her mug on the counter and focused her full, almost motherly attention on Emma before decisively shaking her head.  “No, it wasn’t nothing,” she said.  “You wouldn’t have brought it up if it was nothing. You wouldn’t have that deer in the headlights look if it was nothing.  Talk to me, Emma.  Do you have feelings for this guy?”

“No!” Emma said, getting up and starting to pace.  “Yes…I don’t know!  I don’t know how I feel other than wanting to hop in my bug and drive as fast and as far away as I possibly can.”

Mary Margaret let her pace for a few moments before getting awkwardly to her feet and pointing Emma in the direction of the sofa before the big, magnificent Christmas tree.  “You’re falling for him, but the thought scares you, am I right?”

Emma sighed, defeated.  “Mary Margaret, I can’t do this again.  I can’t.”

“You can’t do what?” Mary Margaret said with a gentle smile.

“Fall for someone,” Emma said.  “Neal, Graham, even Walsh, they’re all gone.  There must be something wrong with me, something that drives people away.  I can’t fall for Killian only to have it all fall apart in a few months.  I don’t think I could stand it again.”

Mary Margaret leaned over and hugged her tightly.  “Oh Emma, I know you’re scared,” she said, pulling back, “but it’s worth it.  Love is so worth it.  Don’t give up what could turn out to be the best thing in your life just because of fear.”

“But…I barely even know this guy,” Emma said.  “How do I know this isn’t just the magic of the holidays talking?”

“No one’s saying you have to go off and propose to the guy, Emma,” Mary Margaret said with a grin.  “Take it slow.  Let things develop naturally.  If he’s the one, I promise he’ll be there with you every step of the way; he’ll take things as slow and deliberate as you want.”

Emma was silent for a long moment.  Was her sister in law right?  Was it possible there could be something real, something substantial, something magical and lasting between her and Killian?  The fear gradually began to recede to be replaced with something she hadn’t felt in quite some time.  Hope.

“Maybe you’re right,” Emma said finally.  “Maybe I owe it to him…to myself…to at least be open to the possibility.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Christmas Eve was a cold, dreary day for Killian, much like it had been for the past five years.  He’d begun to hope this year would be different, that this year he’d have someone to spend the holidays with, but after that last encounter with Emma on the day of the cookie baking, he’d started to lose hope.

Killian frowned as he sat before the tree they’d spent so many happy hours decorating.  He scarcely knew what had happened.  One moment they’d been having a pleasant afternoon, the next she kissed him as though her life depended on it, and then she was gone, running away from him like being in his presence was the most loathsome prospect she could imagine.

What had he done wrong?  How had he so royally cocked up something that was turning into one of the most beautiful, meaningful relationships of his life?

Killian took a sip of the rum he’d bought in honor of the holiday (the rum he’d hoped to share with a certain gorgeous blonde).  After the disastrous way the evening had ended, Killian had decided it was best to give Emma her space, let her determine the course of their…whatever it was that they had with each other.

Perhaps it was a good idea, perhaps it wasn’t, Killian didn’t know.  All he knew was that he missed her, more than he’d ever thought possible.  He missed their daily text conversations, their banter, their flirting.  He missed _her_. What if that kiss had driven her away for good?  What if he lost her?

Killian took another sip, not even wanting to consider the possibility.   _A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets_.  He would give her the holidays, give her a chance to get some perspective, and then he would plead his case, let her know how he felt. He’d never forgive himself if he neglected to do even that much.

There was a knock at the door.

Killian looked up, confused.  Who the bloody hell would be disturbing him at 7:30 on Christmas Eve night?  He was hardly fit for company, no matter who it might be.  “Go away,” he growled, not even bothering to get to his feet.

“Um…if that’s what you want, but I was really hoping we could talk,” came the voice he thought about, dreamed about, daily.   _Emma!_

Killian jumped to his feet and fairly sprinted to the door.  “Swan,” he breathed as the door opened, “at last.”

She grinned, looking a bit uncertain at the same time.  “So, are you going to invite me in, or what, Jones?”

Killian stepped back hastily, sweeping his good hand out in a gesture of invitation.  “Of course, love.  You’re always welcome here.  Always.”

She smiled shyly up at him as she shed her coat and took a seat on his sofa, patting it in invitation for him to join her.  “The tree looks really good, Killian,” she said awkwardly.

“Thank you,” he said, scratching at the spot behind his ear.  Why was this so awkward?  From the first they’d been comfortable with each other, but now…now it was like there was a wall up between them.  Perhaps it would be best to clear the air.  “Swan, why are you here?”

She met his eyes, attempting a bright smile.  “Well, I still owe you one good deed, right?  I had to do four before Christmas, and tonight’s my last opportunity.”

His face fell.  “Oh, aye, the good deeds…”

Emma reached over and put a gentle hand on his arm.  “Maybe that wasn’t the only reason I came.”

“Aye?”

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly dropping her eyes, picking at the tassel of the afghan he had draped over the back of the sofa.  “I just…I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

His eyebrow raised.  “The other night?  Swan, if you mean to apologize for that kiss, please don’t.  I assure you it was both very much wanted and very much enjoyed.”

He watched as a tinge of pink colored her cheeks.  “I wasn’t gonna apologize for that.  Not really,” she said, finally meeting his eyes.  “It was what happened afterwards.  The running, I mean.  I’m sorry I freaked out on you like that.”

“Swan, you don’t have to…”

“Yeah, I think I do,” she interrupted.

“Emma,” he tried again.  “If you don’t have feelings for me, you need not apologize.  I never wish to pressure you or take advantage…”

“That’s just it,” Emma said with a hint of impatience.  “It’s not that I don’t have feelings for you.  It’s that I do.”

Killian felt his heart pick up it’s pace as his stomach swooped pleasantly.

“That’s why I ran away,” Emma continued.  “There’s this…I don’t know… _connection_ between us that I can’t deny, and it scares the hell out of me.  In my experience people leave.  People _always_ leave.  If I let myself feel for someone, I just get my heart broken, and…Killian, I can’t lose you too.”

Killian smiled tenderly, reaching up to cup her face, to let soft tendrils of her hair slip through his fingers.  “Swan, you need never fear that.  If I win your heart, and I have every intention of winning it, it will be because you want me.  If I win your heart, it will be the most precious treasure I’ve ever had, and I’ll guard it with my life.”

Emma smiled gently at him, leaning into his touch.  “That kind of statement should sound so sappy it’s almost laughable, but coming from you, somehow it doesn’t.”

He grinned.  “It’s a gift, darling.”

“Killian, I can’t guarantee I won’t get scared again,” she said, after a soft chuckle, “but being away from you this week made me realize something.”

“Aye, what’s that?”

“I missed you,” she said.  “I don’t want to let fear keep us from exploring what might be a really good thing.”

“Nor do I, love.”

“Just…” she said.  “Do you mind if we take things slow?  I’ve always kind of rushed into things before, but, I don’t know.  I want to make sure we do this thing right.”

He smiled, letting his thumb gently caress her cheek.  “We can take this as slowly as you like, darling.  We’ve our whole lifetimes before us.”

“Good,” Emma said.  “How about we make it official by testing out that mistletoe you’ve got hanging by the fireplace?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
